


Hope

by cassiecasyl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Canon Related, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Emotions, Fluff, Fluff with Feels, Hope, Hopefully not OOC, Hugs, Love Confessions, M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sort Of, Worried Castiel (Supernatural), sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiecasyl/pseuds/cassiecasyl
Summary: When Dean finds out that you can't only see hellhounds but also angel wings through glasses scorched in holy water, he starts to glance at Castiel's wings every chance he gets. Eventually, Cas confronts him about it.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back! I returned from the vanished and recently (finally) got up to write something. Well, at least it's a story that lives up to my username. Partly credit for the plot goes to Fallenangel_Winchester, since this is based on a chat I had with her ages ago. Please check her stories out if you've got time, it would mean a lot :)
> 
> It's been some time since I've written anything, and an even longer time since I've written these characters, so I hope they're not too ooc.

Cas turned around at a light touch on his shoulder. He was met with a mesmerized Dean, a sight that had been rare already when they first met but got more and more extinct in the years since then. Cas’s lips involuntarily twitched up as the Winchester caught his stare and quickly retreated. Though the tender smile soon turned into worry as he noticed the glasses on Dean’s face. 

“Dean?” he asked, carefully approaching the topic, “Are you losing sight?” 

“What?” Dean responded completely perplexed as if caught off guard. The angel’s frown only increased at that. 

“You’re wearing glasses.” He stated. “Don’t humans use those as devices to enhance their sight?” 

“Oh.” Dean relaxed, suddenly looking guilty. “No. No, Cas, I’m fine. I wasn’t- I’m not wearing them because of that- you know what? never mind.” He took off his glasses and turned to go, discarding them on a nearby table. 

“Dean,” Castiel called out after him. “Dean.” 

The hunter stopped but didn’t look at him. Finally, he replied, “I was just testing out a new look, Cas. Clark-Kent-style, you know?” 

“So, you are losing your sight,” Cas clarified, seeing right through his lie. “Why didn’t you say anything? I could help.” A kind of hurt resided in his ocean eyes, swimming through the worry towards Dean. 

“No, Cas, that’s not it- “ 

“He’s using them to see your wings,” Sam chimed in as he went into the room, clearly amused at Dean’s glare. “They’re not normal glasses. We scorched them in holy fire so we could use them to see hellhounds and apparently, you can also see angel wings through them,” he explained to cross one of the questions off Cas’s expression. 

“But… why?” It was a simple question, but Sam could see how Dean cowered away from it, ready to flee the situation rather than discarding his reasons. Cas’s stern yet soft eyes lay on the hunter, patiently waiting for his answer. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave you two alone,” Sam announced, quickly grabbing the book for which he came here and left.

“Traitor,” Dean hissed at his brother as he passed him, though silently begging him to stay. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Sam’s eyes responded, however: _ “Sorry, buddy, but I’m not gonna help you there.” _

“Dean?” Cas’s voice had grown soft as it tended to do around him. The angel looked at him, unjudging and calm, as he waited for an answer. 

Silence fell over them as Dean went over his options, fighting with the courage to spill the truth. He knew Cas deserved but he wasn’t sure he was able to admit to it. Not yet, maybe not ever. His emotions towards the angel scared him as much as they made sense to him. He never questioned them. They just were. 

“Look, Cas, your wings…” He combed his hand through his hair in a nervous action, “they’re beautiful. We don’t get much beauty in this job, y’know? Gotta admire it while I can.” The hunter blushed slightly. Maybe Cas would let it slide with that. it wasn’t actually a lie but it also wasn’t the full truth. It was enough in his eyes, though still, the air grew thin as he waited for Cas to assure him that it was enough for him too. He should’ve never let himself be caught like that. He should’ve been more careful. But now it was too late. 

Cas chuckled slightly and Dean looked up again. “They’re nothing special, Dean. You should’ve seen the archangels’ wings when they were in the height of their power. They were majestic. Or Balthazar’s… I’ve always liked his wings. Mine are nothing compared to that.” 

“Don’t say that, Cas. I don’t care what theirs looked like. Yours are beautiful, despite everything.” 

“Thank you, Dean.” A shy smile stole itself onto Cas’s face. 

“And they remind me of something,” Dean admitted after a moment of silence. 

“Of what?” 

“Hope,” he replied earnestly though his voice wavered a little bit as if scared of the meaning the word held. 

The angel frowned. “How so?” he questioned, unable to see what Dean saw. 

“They’ve been through a lot. You’ve fallen, you’ve been human, had your grace stolen, and still, they’re glorious, barely scarred even. They’ve grown back time after time. That’s gotta mean something, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe,” Cas compromised. “But I think you’re wrong.” Before Dean could turn it into an argument, Cas continued: “I don’t think they’re hope. Because hope is standing right before me. I didn’t know it at the time, but it got resurrected when I pulled you out of hell.” 

Dean blinked as he processed his friend’s words. “But,” he interjected his thoughts, unable to comprehend, “I don’t get it. What do you mean?” 

“You’re the hope the world needs. You and Sam. This damned little world needs every last Winchester it can get, and it’s got you, the best of the best. You’ve saved the world countless times and every single time it seemed impossible until you did it. You’re heroes.” 

“We set the world up for doom most times too so that was just fixing up a mess we’ve made as well as we could. There’s no hope in that, Cas. We’re just trying to not be at fault when the world runs down the drain.” 

“You’ve managed it every time.”

“More or less.” 

“But you did. There’s hope in that. Even if it's just fixing up mistakes you’ve made, as you put it.” 

“Cas, stop. I’m not-,” he sighed, “I’m not hope. I can’t be. You know why? Because I’m hopeless. So how can I be hope when I’m hopeless? Can you tell me that, Cas?”

“You’re not hopeless, Dean.”

“But I damn feel like I am.”

“You’ve found hope right here,” Castiel said, leaving Dean to wonder what he meant. The angel stepped forward and suddenly, Dean felt something settling down around his shoulders. It felt like a soft breeze, but also warm. Comforting. The hunter looked up and Cas handed him the glasses so Dean could see. 

Cas’s wings were wrapped around him in a soft, somehow fleeting embrace. Dean barely dared to relax into them, fearing this moment might be taken from them if he did. It was unreal to him, something he didn’t deserve so how could this be? 

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas told him, slightly raising his arms as an invitation and Dean fell into them. The hunter closed his eyes, hiding away from Cas’s view in the crook of the angel’s neck as he felt the hug tighten around him, feathers brushing against his cheeks as they engulfed him fully. Somehow, Dean wasn’t scared. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t wanna miss you,” Cas whispered, and Dean wondered why. 

“It’s good to have you here, too, Cas,” Dean responded. 

“I love you, Dean,” Cas spoke, and Dean stilled. His throat grew dry and he swallowed heavily. 

“I…,” he started, his voice breaking. He didn’t want to, didn’t know how, but he felt obligated to respond. Why was this so difficult? 

Cas loosened the hug a little to look Dean into his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I do.” The hunter relaxed a tiny bit. 

“I…,” he started again, and Cas waited patiently, ready to retreat and give him space if he needed to. “I need you, Cas. Never forget that.” 

“I know, Dean.” Dean chuckled slightly. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you, Dean?” The male tensed up again at the question, a certain kind of panic rising within him. 

“You’re asking for permission?” he teased his friend in an attempt to lessen the tension building between them. 

“I’m an angel.” 

Dean laughed, wholeheartedly, like only Cas and Sam were able to make him. His eyes locked with Cas’s, the angel who’s always been there for him. He used to not believe in angels. He had never been one for prayer or to ask for help. Castiel was like a gift he never explicitly asked for. 

He nodded slightly and the angel leaned forward, tenderly pressing his lips against the hunter’s. Castiel’s lips ghosted over his, careful and slow, afraid of doing something wrong. Dean pulled him closer. 

It was the most loving kiss the hunter has ever had. The ones he usually got were rushed, heated, full of passion and want for distraction. They were nothing but a temporary drug to forget reality and all his worries for just a few hours. They smelled like alcohol and strangers, speaking of adventure and never of home. This, however, was groundbreakingly different. This was something else, and Dean was so full of emotion that he felt like he had to burst at any instant, yet the kiss held him together, firm but tender, so unbelievably soft that Dean felt fragile in the angel’s arms. It consisted of pure love, no lust, no want, just giving and Dean wanted it to never end. 

But, as all good things do, it did. Cas’s thumb caressed Dean’s cheek, brushing off the tears the hunter didn’t feel shedding, as he searched his eyes for an indication that he was okay. That they were okay.

Dean hugged Cas shortly before he left the angel’s embrace, turning to go after gifting him a small smile. 


End file.
